Chapter 3: The Black Knights!
"Rise up, warriors, take your stand at one another's sides, our feet set wide and rooted like oaks in the ground. …learn to love death's ink-black shadow as much as you love the light of dawn. 'Here is courage, mankind's finest possession, here is the noblest prize that a young man can endeavor to win." – Tyrtaeus Spartan Instructor
Holy Empire of Britannia
2016 a.t.b
Ashford County
Ashford, a scenic little town compared to the capital of Pendragon. It was by no coincidence Lelouch found himself there. His enemies were probably sitting in their parlors, tea in hand, chortling about it. The town barely held a population of eleven hundred thousand, and since its ruler's exile, the county had seen better days. Its young men were leaving in droves to find jobs elsewhere, its factories once leading the Knightmare frame development race laid dormant and abandoned. Ashfordshire, the estate where the family once lived, laid discarded on a hill overlooking the township below.
"I've been to shopping malls with more people than this, Sire," Jeremiah looked out the window opposite of Lelouch. The Prince was inclined to believe him; hardly anybody was out and about. It gave the town a rustic charm, to be sure, but Britannia's long-held tradition states each county had to contribute to its own province military. Given the mostly elderly and children he could see, Lelouch felt this place had given all it could provide.
"Well then, take us to the base; I believe I've seen enough," Lelouch sat back on his seat, contemplating the task at hand. The driver wordlessly followed his command and drove them to the town limits. About seven kilometers away, tucked between two ridges laid Fort Olympus. Lelouch's car made it to the base, and he was led inside. The lead car ahead of them contained two senior officers who were from an entirely different Regiment by the look of their uniforms. Lelouch looked on at the base inhabitants. Many of them went about their business without any candor or conviction. Most of them barely looked like they wanted to be here at all. Lelouch frowned and made a mental note of every place he passed.
Eventually, they were led to the Forts Command Center. The officers inside were hardly any better; in fact, Lelouch's current chaperones had to bark at quite a few of them to salute Lelouch. Though Lelouch seldom employed foul language, he felt the situation was appropriate. Because everything he saw only confirmed it. Unkempt uniforms, out of regulation facial hair, he even saw a scantly dressed woman leave the officers quarters, stuffing a wad of notes into her purse. Yes, there was no other way to describe it. This was a shit show, and Lelouch would have none of it.
After a briefing with the senior officers, they handed Lelouch the keys to the place, sort of speak. Then the officers hopped on a plane and got the hell out of doge. Lelouch could hardly blame them; there was a discipline problem here. Well, there were many problems, actually, but Lelouch would tackle them later. First and foremost, he had something he needed to do. So as soon as Lelouch was situated, he grabbed a junior officer and Jeremiah. The three began an inspection of the Fort, and the junior Officer looked confusedly towards his new Commander. "Beg your pardon, Colonel, but are you sure you don't want to have the base personnel ready for inspection?"
"Quite," Lelouch hopped off the jeep that carried them to their first destination. "Even if I warned them, as things are, they would just disappoint me more. No, I need to see things for myself." Lelouch entered the barracks; several of the enlisted soldiers barely paid them any heed. Jeremiah was about to announce their presence until Lelouch raised a hand, stopping him. The soldiers went about their business, drinking alcohol, unkempt uniforms, and that same woman from the Officer's lounge was there again. The process was repeated, as Lelouch inspected the motor pool, the generators, the mess hall, and one final inspection of the Command Center. Later that evening, Lelouch sat behind his desk, typing up a storm.
Jeremiah, meanwhile, was pacing back and forth. His hands were behind his back, and he was grinding his teeth in frustration. Lelouch smiled, somewhat amused by his subordinate, though he couldn't blame him. Jeremiah was foremost a military man; Lelouch might as well have asked the man not to breathe when he commanded him to not call attention to themselves. It was all part of the plan to get the men ready for war and regain their lost pride. With one final keystroke, Lelouch sat back on his chair and stretched. "Any word on your comrades?"
"Yes, Sire, they should arrive by tomorrow morning," Jeremiah stopped his pacing to stare out of the window overlooking the base.
"Good," Lelouch hit a few keys in his terminal, a nearby printer churned to life. Lelouch stood up and walked over and collected his work. "Here, read these, and have Major Nu and Soresi read them as well. Afterward, we will meet up. I have a plan, and we don't have a lot of time to waste." Lelouch walked towards the door before turning to Jeremiah. "I expect nothing but the best from my subordinates. I'm going to make sure these soldiers know it."
Jeremiah smirked, sitting across his closest friends since his days at the Academy. Villeta quietly read the report typed out by his liege, and Kewell seemed to grow more exasperated with every page. "Don't pop a blood vessel, old chap," Jeremiah chuckled.
"I should have known you were overselling it." Kewell sighed and dropped the packet on the desk before them. "Come along, serve with the Prince, honor, glory, and prestige await." Kewell mockingly tried to speak like Jeremiah.
"I believe he also mentioned something about damsels swooning at your feet," Villeta commented offhandedly.
"I did not forget, but that was hardly why I agreed in the first place," Kewell crossed his arms.
"All the same, if you wish to back out now, my liege will not hold it against you." Jeremiah sat back in his seat. "However, think about it carefully, because the Prince will change history, and you shall miss your part in it!" Jeremiah spoke with the utmost passion.
"You seem so sure," Kewell sighed, "bullocks, I'm already here. Besides, if you're off to war, your little sister would be very cross if I wasn't there to make sure you live." Kewell sighed and rubbed his temples.
"Do you truly believe in Prince Lelouch Jeremiah?" Villeta looked towards her friend with contemplating eyes.
"Yes, I know he will be the one to write history," Jeremiah stroked his scar absently.
"Okay, then I accept the position as well; when will we meet his Highness?" Villeta placed her report on the desk.
"Right now, come, his Highness instructed me to bring you to him should you decide to stay." Jeremiah stood up, slamming his hands on the desk. His face broke into an impossibly broad grin. "Come on, then, our first mission awaits!"
Jeremiah led them across the Command Center to Lelouch's private quarters. The three officers entered and saw the Prince, all in black and silver, hunched over an electronic tactical map. "Reporting for duty, Sire," Jeremiah saluted fist across his chest, and his fellow officers followed suit.
"At ease," Lelouch did not bother to look up and waved their salutes away. "Since you are here, I believe proper introductions are in order." Lelouch straightened and crossed his arms behind his back. "I am Lelouch Vi Britannia, and I welcome you to the 103rd Ashford Regiment."
"Major Villeta Nu, reporting for duty Sire," Villeta held her chin up proudly.
"Major Kewell Soresi, reporting as well Sire," Kewell's heels clicked together as he straightens further.
"Good, come over; we have to complete the tasks at hand and get these men back in order." Lelouch laid out the plans for a small operation before his subordinates.
"Forgive me, Sire, but this sounds dangerous," Villeta voiced her concerns.
"I assure you, I've taken every precaution into account." Lelouch nodded at her.
"What if you're wrong, Sire?" Kewell cleared his throat, "beg your pardon, Sire, I did not mean to offend."
"Not at all; I appreciate your opinions on the matter." Lelouch raised a brow and offered a disarming smile. "As for your concerns, I have taken them into account. But I believe it will work out for the best. I have been where these men are, and if I could rise above it, so can they." Lelouch paused and smirked, "after all, we didn't build a globe-spanning Empire without a little grit."
Jenkins grumbled; his day was starting out so bloody peachy. He pulled the short straw, and he and Perkins had to operate the guard post on the main entrance. The post easily was the worst in the base; Jenkin's much rathered be cleaning the latrines instead of being out here trying to peer through the bloody rising sun on his face. Sunglasses only did so much, and pulling his cap down, let him see some meters ahead at least. The sun would rise right between the two valleys funneling the light through them. The effect was blinding and annoying when their job was to look at the damn road. God's Eye, the Officers, called the effect; the rest of the enlisted preferred Satans-arse-hole
"Come on, you piece of junk, tune in!" Perkins banged on the radio inside the guardhouse.
"Oi, don't break the equipment, you useless git," Jenkins walked back inside if only to relieve himself from the sun for a bit.
"Oh, stuff it will ya," Perkins waved him away, "I got twenty quid riding on this game!"
"For Christ's sake Perkins, don't fuck with the dial; we need to report in an hour." Jenkins groaned; it was too early for this shite.
"Calm down, you ninny; I penciled the frequency," Perkins stuck his tongue out and fiddled with the dial.
"Navy has the Ball, and the Army is backed into the ten-yard line!"
"Bullocks, come on, you bastards, I got money riding on this!" Perkins sat down, facing away from the sun.
"The Sargeant is gonna hand you your arse if he finds you doing this." Jenkins groaned and returned to his post outside. Nobody in the base seems to care; they got a new commander. Most said it would just be another blue blood who would be gone within the month. Jenkins, for one, cared. He was sick of this post; he didn't sign up to sit around and do nothing. He hoped this Commander would get them out of this dread heap of a post.
Jenkins shook his head and peered down the road as far as he could. He blinked, then put his hand up, squinting into the distance. "Is something coming?" A silhouette appeared as if coming from the sun itself.
"Perkins, radio the Sargeant, is anything scheduled to arrive?" Jenkins unslung his rifle from his back.
"Nah, some blokes left the night before with a truck, nothing else on the list," Perkins grunted.
"Then who the hell is coming this way?" Jenkins gripped his rifle, feeling his pulse pick up. "Perkins radio the Sargeant, unknown coming this way."
"What?" Perkins, rather than do as told, got up and came outside to look.
"Perkins, you git, radio it in!" Jenkins shouldered his rifle, butt against his chest.
"Right!" Perkins went inside and fiddled with the dials. "Shite, where did I leave the frequency!"
"Perkins!" Jenkins yelled. Finally, the silhouette came into view. It was a Sutherland, and from behind it, three more spread out into a V formation. "Stop!" Jenkins pointed his rifle uselessly at the incoming Knightmares. The lead machine roared ahead, and Jenkins fell on his ass. The Sutherland jumped over him, followed by two others. The fourth slid to a stop and raised its right arm. The Stun tonfa on the forearm slung into place. "Perkins, get out of there!" Jenkins fired on the Sutherland, attempting to distract it. The machine turned its head briefly in his direction. Perkins dove out of the guardhouse, and the Sutherland smashed it to pieces with the tonfa. The Knightmare's land spinners dropped into place, and the machine jumped over them to catch up with the other three.
The three machines tore through the tarmac; the pilots inside had their objectives. They rode up right up to the motor pool, and several of the staff scrambled into action. The two Sutherlands grabbed chaos grenades and lobbed them into the opened hangars housing the Knightmares and other vehicles. Then they turned and rode away as they heard several loud pops from behind. The fourth Knightmare caught up with them, and the lead Sutherland raised its arm. It spread its hand open, and the three nodded and split. One headed for the Generators, another for the Command Center, and the last two went towards the barracks.
The first to reach their target was the one in charge of the generators. It raised its anti-Knightmare rifle and fired. The second one made it to the command center, the offices all went to the big glass window in a mess to see the machine level its rifle at them before it fired. Finally, the last two reached the barracks weaving between hundreds of long, lightly armored buildings lined together. They reached the central courtyard. They turned back to back and leveled their rifles. The scrambling soldiers all looked on in horror. Then, the shooting began.
The soldiers all yelled and feebly covered their faces with their arms. However, death did not come. The shooting stopped, and when they all looked around, they were fine. Several even padded themselves, just to be sure. Despite knowing those rifles would have just left them like a pink imprint on the tarmac. Everyone looked confusingly at the Sutherlands. In turn, the Knightmares raised their rifles, and from the mounted grenade launchers, fired flares into the sky.
The soldiers watched, confused and scared as two more flares came up. The two Knightmares that attacked the barracks knelt and opened their cockpit. A young man with raven hair stood from the lead unit, with a radio receiver up to his mouth. "Gentlemen, you have all just died in Service to his Majesty Emperor Charles Zi Britannia. This was a test, and you all failed miserably. You couldn't even raise the alarm before we reached our targets. All personnel is to report in full dress uniform before the Command Center. Gentlemen, I expect every one of you to have yourselves groomed and your uniforms pristine in two hours. Now, dismissed!"
The soldiers, stunned and mouth agape, finally sprang into action. Lelouch had just lit a fire under their behinds. The next step was to light a fire in their hearts.
The whole Regiment was front and center before Lelouch. Uniforms pressed, faces clean-shaven, and every man there looked both indignant and begrudgingly proud. They had ten minutes to spare as well. Lelouch, with hands behind his back, eyed every man across from him. A small smile played across his lips. "Gentlemen, I see you all assembled with time to spare."
The young Prince hardened his expression, "you allowed four strangers into your base, then let them drive out with a truck with barely accurately written papers. Then four strangers disabled your base in five minutes before any of you could raise the alarm." Every soldier's face soured, and it was purely out of military protocol; they didn't rage in indignation. Lelouch raised a hand, his mood now somber. "You are angry, and I understand. It was unfair; how could someone strike at the heart of the Empire?"
Lelouch looked on at the gathered faces, his eyes downcast, he sighed. "I thought the same thing, how could anyone strike at the heart of the Empire, my home, the sheer impossibility of it all."
Confusion spread amongst the gathered men; everyone looked on, unsure how to take the information. Lelouch carried on, unperturbed by his men's reaction. "Gentlemen, I learned a hard truth the day my mother died, and that was to never allow myself to be weak again."
Realization dawned on the soldiers, this boy wasn't just some blue blood's son. This was the son of their native daughter, Marianne Lamperouge. Lelouch looked at each of them, and they could finally see the family resemblance. Lelouch smirked, seeing the clarity in his men's eyes. "Gentlemen, I want to make it clear that I do not find you incompetent. No, the fact you followed my orders after the fact only proves it. It was apathy and dissatisfaction with your lot in life." Lelouch spread his arms before him. "You are no lesser soldiers than the men fighting at the fringes of the Empire." Lelouch allowed a second for his words to sink in.
Lelouch felt it; it was like being awoken from a long sleep. The men as well, all their eyes and ears were on Lelouch. "Gentlemen, Soldiers of the Empire, I know none of you joined the most tremendous fighting force in the world to sit in the homeland growing fat and lazy on the Emperor's pittance!" Lelouch crushed the air with his fists, bringing his arms closer to his chest. "You joined this Army because you love your country. Because you wish to provide for your families. Because you know the Empire only asks for the best, and you damn well know that's who you are!" Lelouch swept an arm over the men, his soldiers, and soon to be brothers in arms.
"Gentlemen!" Lelouch raised his arm and placed the other behind his back. "You joined because you are a Britannian, and Britannians love to fight!" The men could not help themselves; the Prince's words roused them into reverence. Each puffed their chests out proudly, their eyes like flames hungry for the recognition they so felt robbed of.
"History has proven that our love for fighting surpasses our passion for football, gardening, and even tea!" Lelouch smiled humorously, "We spent the better part of two centuries fighting, and by Jove, we made sure we were the best at it!" Lelouch stepped up to the edge of the platform and turned halfway. He threw his right arm out, hand spread towards the east, the sun in his palm. "Men! Out there lies Immortality! It is yours, take it!" The men broke all sense of protocol and cheered on their young Commander. Men hugged each other, threw their caps into the air, and reached out for the young leader.
Lelouch stepped back and raised his hands, asking for silence. His men, with some difficulties, obliged cheers and applause dying down. "In a day, we will be flying out to the Mojave to group up with X Corps to train and get more acquainted with desert warfare. I want every man with his kit ready at six-hundred hours a day from today. With that said, every man here is ordered to go into town and have a good time. Are we clear?"
"Yes, Your Highness!" It was thunderous, and it brought Lelouch a measure of satisfaction. He had the men's attention, and their spirits raised.
"Now, before I leave you, I will reveal our coat of arms." Lelouch stepped back and gestured for Jeremiah and his latest additions. The three of them knelt and brought up three poles with rolled-up black fabric. With a nod from Lelouch, the three pulled on silver cords unfurling the banners. "Behold your coat of arms, my Black Knights!" The soldiers beheld the standard like a work of art, a Lone Knight on a white field on the black banner. The knight was on a rearing steed, sword held aloft, above the knight read in Latin; Gladius de victoria. Lelouch gestured at the standards, "These words mean The Sword of Victory," Lelouch grabbed at the air as if he was gripping a sword. He then thrust his arm forward and slapped his other hand against his extended bicep stopping the thrust. "That is what we shall be; we will be the sword that pierces the enemy's heart. When the enemy sees our standard, their eyes will be cast down under our shadow. For they will know your name, The Black Knights!"
"Prince Lelouch's Black Knights!" a voice among the crowd shouted.
"Hoorah!" the entire Regiment sounded off smartly.
At this, the Prince smirked. Yes, these were his Black Knights. From them, he would build an army that none would ever dare oppose. "Now then, I believe I gave you an order to fulfill…dismissed!"
"Yes, Your Highness!" The men saluted, their heels clicking together smartly.
The county of Ashford was soon lit abuzz as the soldiers spread the news of their Commander. The Pubs were packed, music filled the air, and life was breathed back into Ashford. Lelouch watched the town from Ashford Manor. Lelouch gave a sidelong glance at his subordinates. "Don't feel like joining them? It's going to be a while before we can celebrate like this."
"There's still work to be done, Your Highness," Villetta pinched her chin in thought.
"Nonsense, a night of rest and relaxation, that's an order." Lelouch closed his eyes.
"You heard the Prince!" Jeremiah placed his arms around both his friends. "Now there's a pub the officers gathered at, let's join them." Jeremiah forced them to one of the cars parked by the entrance. Much to Kewell's protest. Lelouch chuckled and silently walked into the manor grounds. Each step unearthed a memory of a youth long-buried and gone. His thoughts turned to a blonde girl with a wicked smile who once lived here, and Lelouch shuddered involuntarily.
Lelouch came to a stop before a statue, Immortalized in bronze, were the Ganymede and its stalwart pilot. The Knightmare knelt like a Knight with its palm held out before it. The facsimile of his mother stood at attention with her fist across her heart in a knightly salute. "It's a shame to see it in such a state." An elderly gentleman walked up to Lelouch. He was dressed in finery befit of a noble.
"Count Mortimer, thank you for arriving on such short notice." Lelouch shook hands with the elderly noble.
"Oh, think nothing of it, Your Highness, retirement can be such a bore. Coming out here is a godsend!" Count Mortimer chuckled.
"Then, I am pleased to have helped; I assume your people did their inspection?" Lelouch looked at the decrepit Ashford manor, cracked windows, rusty railings, overgrown vegetation; it made for a proper reminder of the previous owner's fate.
"Oh yes, a marvelous place really, despite the Ashfords inheriting the home from the crown, its constructions date to the founding of the Empire. The Pendragon Historic society would be proud to renovate her." Count Mortimer's eyes shone as he looked at the fallen home. Lelouch, for one, did not understand the Count's love of old buildings. Then again, the man seemed content. Lelouch had met many people climbing the Empire's ladder for wealth and influence. To have come upon a man content with his lot in life perplexed Lelouch. The Count was in his late fifty's with greying hair. He did not look to lack strength or will to climb further. If Lelouch had a more intimate relationship with Count Mortimer, he'd be inclined to ask how he could be so happy.
"Yes, this place deserves to be as I remembered it. Thank you, Count Mortimer," Lelouch bowed his head in farewell and left the gentleman to the manor.
The whole of the county packed itself inside Fort Olympus on the morning of departure. The Base staff packed everyone behind barriers meant for blocking traffic. The townsfolk were ecstatic, cheering, and throwing confetti into the air. More than a few soldiers ran to the crowds receiving tokens from their families or tokens from ladies waving and sending kisses in their direction. Once everyone was stuffed into the massive transport planes, they took off for Nevada.
Holy Empire of Britannia
2016 a.t.b
Mojave Mariposa Training Base
Lelouch wasted no time; as soon as the transport hit the sun-baked tarmac, he ordered his men quartered and to prepare for training. Lelouch met with his subordinates and had one simple command for them. "Train them well, and treat them not the lesser for their societal status. Earn their trust and respect." Of course, life wasn't that simple; it never was.
Two days into training and Jeremiah stood with his Prince before the motor pool. "Light Armored Cavalry!" Jeremiah shouted as he pushed the motor pool's doors open. "Bullocks! Command assigned the Ashford a Cavalry Regiment!" Jeremiah was properly steamed; he stepped into the motor pool, flipped a switch, and the lights shuddered on.
Lelouch narrowed his eyes, "Glasgows." Lelouch felt his lips pull back into a frown.
"A directive from Prince Joffrey, due to high demand for Knightmare frames and replacement parts, all Regiments will be provided Sutherlands based on experience." Jeremiah scratched his head, "it gets worst; due to this hasty re-classification as light cavalry, our promised sixty Knightmares became forty-five. Of those forty-five, only twenty-five are Sutherlands." Jeremiah kicked one of the Glasgow's legs for good measure. "It gets worse, over here, Sire."
Jeremiah led them to the adjacent hangar and revealed its contents to Lelouch. "Look at them, bloody Tanks Sire," Jeremiah swept his hair back in frustration. "I think my Grandfather drove one during the Blitz."
Lelouch sighed, "how many?"
"Twenty, Sire."
"Hmm," Lelouch walked up to one of the Tanks giving it a quick once over. He hopped up and popped the hatch, climbing inside it. The Tank was up to electronics standards; its main gun was an Excalibur Railgun, it could punch through just about anything. "The main gun on these MKII Longbows is powerful enough to destroy a Knightmare, wouldn't you agree, Jeremiah?" Lelouch hopped out of the Tank.
"Yes, provided they oblige us to stand still," Jeremiah drawled.
"Have the men train on them; if nothing else, we can use them to toe disabled Knightmares. I plan to use every asset to achieve victory." Lelouch turned with a swish of his cape to attend to his other duties. He thought briefly of giving High Command a call but decided against it. His enemies had made their intentions clear.
The training was progressing well; the men had proven eager, and quite a number of them had shown they could pilot Knightmares with great skill. With just a few days left of training, Lelouch received a visit from a good friend. Currently, Lelouch was on an elevated platform over the vast dunes of the Mojave. He peered through sophisticated range finders as he watched an exercise between two Knightmare Lance teams. The Red Team led by Jeremiah and their unexpected guests, and the Blue Team led by Kewell and the Black Knights' rising stars.
"Well?" Darlton looked towards his former pupil with a smirk on his scarred face.
"They're certainly impressive, but are you sure about this?" Lelouch put down the range finder handing it to Villetta to his left.
"They requested it themselves; they're young and eager to make a name for themselves. Not unlike a Colonel, I know." Darlton laughed.
Lelouch smiled sheepishly at his mentor, "Would it not be easier to stick with Cornelia then?"
"Her Highness already has the Glaston Knights as her personal guard. They feel they would find themselves on the back lines."
"With Cornelia?" Lelouch raised a brow.
"She keeps us the most experienced Knights for the final push. They know they'll find themselves in rearguard duty before seeing action." Darlton watched the match as it was drawing to a close. Kewell lost two Knightmares and had been surrounded. Lelouch looked to Villetta, but before he said anything, he noticed her expression. She was exasperated and rubbing her temples.
"Something wrong, Major?" Lelouch cocked his hip, resting his fist against it. Instead of responding, Villetta hit a button on the console before her. The team's radio transmissions played outside her headset.
"Well, my old friend, this is how it ends, I'm afraid!" Jeremiah boasted.
"Oh, shut it, you're lucky I didn't shoot you in the back. Unlike you, I am still a gentleman!" Kewell countered.
"All is fair in love and war, old chum, don't worry, I promise to take care of Marika."
"Not even if I really was dying, Gottwald!"
"You wound me, Sir!"
"I'll do more than that; come at me one on one, winner takes all!"
Lelouch pushed the button, sighing. "Forgive me, Lieutenant Colonel, for that unsightly display."
Dalton barked a good laugh shaking his head, "Ah, what's a bit of banter between fellow officers." A blue flair went up into the sky, signifying the Blue Teams' defeat. "So, will you take them?" Darlton put the range finder down and turned to Lelouch.
"Five extra Knightmares and good pilots? Of course, I will." Lelouch smirked, and both men shook hands firmly. "Your sons will be great additions." A proud look crossed the old soldier's face. All and all, Lelouch decided it was a productive visit.
Later Lelouch walked into the barracks where both teams were winding down from the exercise.
"Colonel!" Kewell immediately stood at attention, and everyone followed suit.
"At ease, just came to see our latest additions. If you could give us the room." Along with Jeremiah and Kewell, the Blue team exited the barracks leaving Lelouch alone with his newest recruits. The door closed behind them, and they were left in silence with the Prince seizing up every one of them. Andreas Darlton's adopted sons, Alfred, Bart, Claudio, David, and Edgar. They weren't that much older than Lelouch himself, yet they distinguished themselves as skilled Knightmare pilots. "Gentlemen, first, I'd like to welcome you to the Black Knights. You come with no more excellent recommendation than from Lieutenant Colonel Darlton himself. I know this because even as his sons, he would expect no less from you than any of his soldiers." Lelouch could see them all visibly perk up at the praise. "With that said, I want everyone to know this is an army. I have no need for Knightmare jockeys who don't follow orders or glory hounds who put their personal glory above the mission or their fellow pilots." Lelouch leveled a hard stare at the young men before him. They did not flinch or object to the matter. "I can see we have an understanding; report to Major Gottwald. You will be part of his Lance." Lelouch turned on his heel and began to walk away.
"Your Highness!" Alfred spoke up.
"Colonel, while we are within the confines of military life, Colonel will do just fine." Lelouch turned halfway to them.
"Forgive me, I just wish to say thank you for the opportunity. You won't regret it!" The brothers all nodded along and smirked, patting Alfred on the back.
"See to it that I don't," Lelouch nodded and left the young men to celebrate becoming Black Knights.
Holy Empire of Britannia
2016 a.t.b
Area 19 Morocco
Lelouch took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the salty air at Casablanca. He leaned forward, resting his hands on the railings before him. From atop a control tower, he watched the Regiment disembark the cargo planes. Lelouch exhaled, a satisfied smirk plastered across his face. Everyman below him was motivated, marching in rhythmic step. Each man was clad in their brand new uniforms. Lelouch had the Knightmare pilots uniforms modeled after the Hussars of old. Black dolmans with silver trimmings and buttons, dark grey pelisse with black fur edges with equally silver trimmings and buttons. A silver chain kept the pelisse fastened against the men's shoulders with a knight's helmet broach. A silver sash around their waist covered the black belt beneath. The uniform was complete with black pants and cavalry boots, and silver spurs.
The infantry and support personnel wore less elaborate, yet none the less impressive uniforms. White dress shirt, tie, black pants tucked into combat boots, and black belt. "Look at them, Jeremiah," Lelouch pushed off the railing. He spread his arms out like a father ready to embrace his children. "Magnificent, aren't they?" As if to accentuate their point. In proper formation, the entire Regiment marched to a stop before Lelouch; their heels clicked in unison as they snapped to attention and saluted.
"This is only the beginning, isn't it, Sire?" Jeremiah stepped up to his liege. Jeremiah wore the same uniform as the Knightmare pilots, except instead of a pelisse, he wore a half cape with the Black Knights coat of arms emblazoned on it. His trimmings and buttons as well were gold to differentiate him as an officer.
Lelouch turned from the gathered men and walked past his loyal knight. "Yes, and now we make our first move."
"Ask any man that fought on North Africa, and they will tell you the same damn thing. It was a shitshow until Prince Lelouch arrived. The 24th ceased to exist, and the 23rd was hanging by a thread. I won't diminish Princess Cornelia and her great strides. But Prince Lelouch, with a Regiment size force, turned the damn war around. That's why we're talking about him right now. Because at the age of sixteen, he bailed out two divisions and pushed out of Morocco."
IX Corps 23rd Division Lieutenant Colonel Arnold Furgeson, "The North African War: The Black Knights Arrival." 2043 a.t.b, taken from a speech made by the Lieutenant Colonel at the Gloucester Military Academy Graduation ceremony.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, everyone! Sorry, it took so long to get this out to you. Life happened, and I was distracted by other matters. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. I'll keep the note short, and I will say that I will be working on the next chapter ASAP. By the way, they're quite a few references in this chapter. Wonder if you guys will catch them. See you soon!
Oh, btw, if there are any artists here who take commissions, let me know. I kind of want to bring to life the Knightmare pilot dress uniforms.
